


Suffer With Me

by SomeSunnyDay



Category: Johnny the Homicidal Maniac
Genre: Abuse, Angst, Cannibalism, Childhood Trauma, Dreams and Nightmares, Introspection, M/M, Murder, Traumacore type scenery, Weirdcore type scenery, religious trauma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-05
Updated: 2020-12-05
Packaged: 2021-03-09 21:40:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 537
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27903118
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SomeSunnyDay/pseuds/SomeSunnyDay
Summary: Scriabin doesn't enjoy Edgar's trauma dreams.(Zarla-verse fic.)
Relationships: Edgar Vargas/Original Character(s)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 6





	Suffer With Me

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Zarla](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zarla/gifts).



> CW: Traumacore/Weirdcore - which is basically just a recount of my dreams sometimes.
> 
> TW: shadow people and religious trauma
> 
> I've always wondered why kid Edgar lived with his grandma, here's a fic exploring my take.

There was a set of dreams that Edgar had, which spoke loudly at his religious trauma, and the emotional neglect. The fear would cradle him as he slept, and Scriabin always tried to steer away from those dreams. He never mentions it to Edgar, because, even though they’d be wonderful points to bring to the table, he’s actually frightened by what Edgar dreams about sometimes.   
  


He only remembers why, now, because he’s currently stuck as a spectator in the one he absolutely hates.   
  
He can see a young Edgar at the side of him, trying to will the dark figure in the corner away. This one always ends the same, which, is the bad part about this. Scriabin could stand the goat demon in the dilapidated church, he could stand the weirdly animated field with giant corn and bubbles, or the brightly colored houses on an empty street, but not this.   
  
He doesn’t like seeing Edgar get hurt, and that’s exactly what’s going to happen when he runs to the door, in 3..2..1..   
  
The shadow figure shoots over to Edgar and stabs him repeatedly, then before Edgar wakes up, Scriabin always sees the figure's eyes looking directly at him as it eats Edgar’s corpse.   
  
When Edgar has that dream, Scriabin lays off him, because he can  _ feel _ how fucked up it makes him. He usually directs the dreams he gets to be in, but the childhood trauma ones always leave him powerless, which he supposes, is how Edgar felt when experiencing them. Scriabin couldn’t count how many times now that he’s been stuck in a trauma dream.   
  
The shadow figure is the worst by far. He knows those eyes, he knows who the shadow figure is, and Johnny would never come close.   
  
Scriabin sits with Edgar at the table and tries to level out his emotions from the little mental box he put them in as soon as he shot up with sweat and tears. After Scriabin quietly reminds Edgar of the bills, he goes back to rewatch the dream. He knows who that is.    
  
Edgar lived with his grandma for a good portion of his life, but not all of it. Scriabin digs through memories while Edgar goes to the store. He looks at faded mental pictures of his relatives and sees Edgar’s father.   
  
A tall man with worn, harsh eyes. Those are the eyes of the goat demon, the man in the pink house, the scarecrow in the bubble cornfield, the shadow in the corner of Edgar’s room.   
  
Scriabin bitterly looks down on the photo. He sighs, why else would he be living with his grandma, if not to get away from his father? He was the one to hurt him enough to get the authorities involved. Scriabin put the photo back and rewound the nightmare. Those were the father’s eyes.    
  
Scriabin shook his head, Edgar wasn’t ready for that. Once he works on more pressing issues, he’ll bring it to him. Just a matter of timing.   
  
He reminds Edgar to lock the front door and gets him to bed. He lays with him, and tries to steer a good dream his way. Time was all he needed, just a little more time.


End file.
